


Twenty Years

by Rollinginthesheep



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Secrets, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rollinginthesheep/pseuds/Rollinginthesheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There’s a note underneath your front door</i><br/>That I wrote twenty years ago<br/>Yellow paper and a faded picture<br/>And a secret, in an envelope<br/><b>20 Years - The Civil Wars</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty Years

**Author's Note:**

> **This isn’t excellent and I wrote it in like twenty minutes so it’s not the most polished of my work but I really liked the idea so I wrote it. It’s more of a drabble than anything. Enjoy I guess? Haha**

“Eleanor, please! We can sort something out; you don’t have to do this!” I exclaimed, unable to stop myself from reaching out to grab her arm, to stop her and shake rational sense into her. She merely pushed me away again, busying her shaking hands with the zipper of her suitcase which refused to comply with her attempts at shutting it.

“I can’t! I just can’t!” She responds, her voice shaking as she tries to hold back the tears that I can see threatening to overflow from her large brown eyes. I want to reach out and wipe them away, tell her that everything would be alright but I knew deep down I’d simply be lying. _Again._

“I can’t do this to him anymore Zayn. I can’t do this all. I just need to leave, _I need a clean slate_.” She continued, her voice quaking as she says my name and my heart breaks just a little more.

“So you’re just going to leave? Like this was all nothing?!” I shot back, unable to stop the toxic edge that leaks into my response. However, more than anything I was angrier at myself because I knew she was right. This really was the best thing for everyone. I could fix my relationship with Perrie, my friendship with Louis. I wouldn't have to feel pressured to lie constantly, hide the messages or the evidence that Eleanor and I were more than merely friends. I could go back to how it was before.

But I also knew at the same time that _I could never go back to how it was before._ No one knew the truth and with Eleanor leaving it would erase any evidence and stop prolonging the pain but it wouldn't mean that it wouldn’t change the fact that it happened to begin with. The undeniable fact that a portion of my reserved, closed heart would always belong to the brunette who stood before me, tears in her eyes. That the very same heart would most definitely break when she walked out the door that loomed a few steps away, like an oncoming storm.

Eleanor had finally managed to do up her luggage and it was sitting at her feet in the otherwise empty room which had been cleared out in the previous days. I focused my gaze on the closed bag, unable to meet her eyes. I wanted to, _I really did_ , but I knew the moment I did I'd beg for her to stay once more.

Louis didn't know she was leaving, no one else did. She’d brought a one-way ticket on a flight set to leave later today to a destination she wouldn't tell me. She knew if she did I would come find her again.

“I guess this is it.” She hesitated, her tone soft. Before I could stop myself I found my gaze trailing up to meet hers. I felt my eyelids flutter, in an attempt to release the tears in my eyes.

“I guess it is.” I replied in a voice that sounded foreign and cold even to my own ears.

Eleanor gazed at me the tears that she'd been fighting finally sliding down her cheek and glimmering in the afternoon sunlight.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured her voice barely above a whisper. She seemed conflicted, half turned to go but half watching my gaze for something I couldn't quite give her. Maybe she wanted closure, maybe she wanted redemption. I didn't know what, but I knew I couldn't give it to her either way. My mind was screaming in protest telling me to stop her from leaving, to kiss her lips one more time and just hold her for another moment longer. _Just once more._

But I couldn't move. I just stood there, frozen.

Eleanor sighed in defeat, before lifting up her luggage and beginning the journey to the door. I knew it was merely feet away from us, but it seemed like an eternity until the echoing squeal of the door hinges sounded. I was still staring at the spot where she had just been standing.

“Zayn?” She hesitated in the doorframe and it takes all the strength inside me to turn and acknowledge her.

“Yes?” I asked, my tone husky from the lump that seemed to be growing with every passing second at the base of my throat.

“I’m sorry.” She repeated, her voice breaking as she turned away and shut the door behind her. The sound echoed in my ears and I found myself rushing to the window and watching as she got inside the taxi without looking back.

I stood there for an hour afterward inside the now empty apartment, silently watching as the world went on as though nothing had changed.

She was gone.

Nothing would be the same again.

—

Louis got over Eleanor in time. As days, weeks and months passed his grieving state ebbed away until it became a mere memory, faded in the context of time. It made it easier that she'd deleted everything when she'd gone; her twitter, her instagram, everything. Her phone was disconnected; her apartment empty. It was as though she had never even existed to begin with.

Many theories went around when she'd left, about the reasonings for her disappearance. Some were convinced she'd been murdered by management and it had been covered up. Some swore they'd seen her, taking photos with odd look-a-likes. None were her though, no matter how convincing their similar features may be.

Louis had contacted Eleanor’s parents who assured him that she was safe and she was fine, but refused to say anymore. They had probably been requested by Eleanor not to say anything. Louis realized with time that she deserved the chance to have her life back, the one that didn't revolve around One Direction.

I think that was when he got closure, realizing that Eleanor had the right to pursue her dreams even if they didn’t feature him.

It was also then I realized how much he'd really loved her and it had caused my heart to ache. Every time he smiled at me, I'd feel that familiar pang of guilt that only subsided partially with the time that passed. No matter what happened, I’d never forget the fact that I was the main reason Eleanor had left to begin with.

This guilt only became bearable when Louis met Claire. She was beautiful, blonde and had wide brown eyes that looked like chocolate. She knew how to laugh and had an aura of confidence that hooked Louis from the beginning. He looked at her like she was the sun in the sky and it was no surprise that two years later they were married.

Over time the rest of us settled down, around the time our musical careers quietened. Time represented everything it seemed. As we aged, as we matured, we started appreciating the smaller things like our families and the quiet life. The touring minimized, the release of albums slowed and with even more time it all faded to a mere phase of our lives.

We never stopped being friends despite this though.

Perrie and I fixed things with time. It helped our relationship more when One Direction was no longer the mass media production it used to be. We only had to manage our time around her busy schedule, as I went on to finish my studies and pursued my dream of teaching English. I may not need the money, but I wanted to fulfil this ambition and it ignited a passion for my work I hadn't realized had faded from the years of ragged fame. Of course the paparazzi never really stopped and we made occasional appearances as a band in the spotlight. Most of the time when I appeared in public I was at Perrie’s side, letting her have the chance to be the brighter star. Watching her smile, blue eyes shining made it worth giving up the fame, giving up the attention, _giving it all up._

We got married three years after Eleanor left. It wasn't a huge event, merely a small garden wedding, a ceremony infused with a combination of our religions. Niall had gotten incredibly drunk and cried about how beautiful the ceremony had been. He’d also ended up snogging Perrie’s best friend Katherine and the pair were engaged a year and a half later.

_It was funny how things worked out in the end._

We’d begun as a boy band, thrown together on a reality show. We’d become an internationally recognised musical group, and now we were this, five lads who shared countless memories and a Sunday lunch once a month with our partners and us. We’d sit around a table and laugh about the ‘good old days’.

Harry had gone on to pursue his own solo career, as had Louis. Both had success, but Louis had ended up shifting his career into the acting field, which wasn't really a huge surprise. He turned out to be a really good lead in romantic comedies.

Liam had a few publicized relationships, but ultimately ended up back where he’d begun, meeting Danielle again at an X-factor reunion. They had three beautiful kids who could dance like nobody’s business.

Harry had taken a leaf from Liam’s book, falling for a former flame once more. He and Taylor had a daughter four years after Eleanor left, who honestly had no hope in the hair department. Last time I’d seen her, she looked like someone had stuck a blonde poodle on her head. Harry doted on the girl and it was obvious how happy the couple were. I couldn't help but be proud of my friend for choosing his happiness for once, instead of letting the world’s perception scare him away from the things he really wanted. He now had a lovely family to show for it.

Perrie and I never had children. The moment just never came. Little Mix burned on strong for a few years longer than One Direction, surprising even their biggest critics. Then the four girls had gone off in their own directions, with the exception of Jade and Perrie who continued on as a duo. With Perrie travelling all the time, it wasn’t fair to factor a child into it. At least with Harry and Taylor, Taylor had slowed down and embraced the life as a mother tending to the rose garden and doing all the other weird things she seemed to be into. Even Harry slowed down when he’d found out they’d were expecting a child. But I could tell Perrie’s passion lay in her performing and I couldn’t ask her to put it on hold to fulfil my desire to be a father. Instead I invested myself in the teenagers I taught, trying to fill the void that always lingered in the back of my mind. Deep down, I couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t a child that was missing.

It was those same brown eyes that I’d watched leave my life almost twenty years ago.

I loved Perrie Edwards, I truly did, but I would never stop loving Eleanor Calder, no matter how long time passed. It was the ever burning truth that had always lingered in life.

I often wondered where she was. I wondered if she ever thought of me, of what had happened between us.

Time may change us and our circumstances, and cause lines to form on our faces but it never changed the fact that the blurred memories that existed in my mind had really happened.

I wondered what would have happened if we'd met in a different life. One where I hadn’t been with Perrie or she hadn’t been with Louis. Would we have worked out? Would she be sitting in this lonely house with me?

Twelve years after marrying, Perrie and I divorced, citing we barely saw each other as it was. It was clear Perrie enjoyed fame and the many aspects that came with it, but I wasn’t huge on having cameras shoved in my face, especially as I’d given up that life many years ago.

We parted amicably and still remained somewhat friends. Sometimes late at night she’d call me and we’d talk as though nothing had happened and sometimes I wouldn’t hear from her for months.

We both were free spirits, just not two free spirits that belonged together. She was a bright rainbow and I was the faded autumn colors. Maybe we never really fit to begin with.

It didn’t mean I loved her any less and I wished the best for her, no matter what conclusion we’d come to.

Slowly life went on. I taught English whilst Harry conquered the world with his voice and Louis acted and Liam coached others on the very same show that made him famous. Niall ended up back in Ireland with Katherine and him setting up a family in his home town and having two kids, the stereotypical son and daughter. They often sent long emails with updates on what the kids were up to. Taylor did the same, taking ridiculous vacation photos with Harry and their now larger brood of five kids. I swear they had no idea how to stop procreating. Louis and Claire never had biological children, choosing to adopt as Claire wasn't able to carry a child. They reminded me of a new, glossier version of ‘Brangelina’.

It made me happy to know my friends were happy despite the fact I felt I was merely going through the motions of my life.

That was until one day came when I finally got the closure I’d yearned, twenty years after the day I’d watched those brown curls walk out of my life.

—

It was raining the day the letter came. I pulled my coat closer to my frame in an attempt to block the rain from leaking in onto my clothing as I retrieved the mail from the post box at the end of my driveway.

I’d fumbled through the pile of envelopes, groaning as I spotted another bill. I still had a fair amount of savings left from my One Direction days, but it didn’t stop the pain in the ass that was having to pay people money. I shifted through to the envelope sitting at the bottom of the pile as I settled myself in my favourite couch by the fireplace.

Written in small blue letters was my name. It was a font I hadn’t seen in twenty years. The very same font that caused my usually settled heart to race. I fumbled with the seal before tearing it open, pulling out the pile of lined paper neatly folded inside.

I unfolded the letter, watching as a couple of photographs floated out and landed on the carpet by my feet. I chose to read the letter before retrieving them.

_Dear Zayn,_

_My heart raced at the familiar loopy Z written on the worn paper._

_There are many things I wish I could say that could only begin to compile a reason why I’m writing this letter now, instead of twenty years ago. But I am not writing this letter twenty years ago nor am I writing it to give you an excuse, or an alibi I do not really deserve. No, many things have happened and we are no longer the people we once were. I do not think the girl I used to be really deserves to redeem herself, as she is merely a shell of in comparison to person I’ve become. And this I have to thank you for._

_See, when I left twenty years ago I was afraid. I was at a point in my life where I found myself at a crossroads, a choice to come clean and risk my reputation, my friendships and the very nature of my relationship with Louis. I was foolish, scared and I broke not only my heart but yours and his as well, and I know that was unfair of me._

_This isn’t me writing to apologize, because given my time again; I’d still have made that same choice. Foolish as that may seem, I’m proud of the person I’ve become and I think the girl I was then needed that new start to finally have a chance to be who she should have been all along._

_I loved you Zayn. I loved you as much as I selfishly could, in the eyes of the fact that I was dating your best friend at the time. I was young and I let myself romanticize my misgivings._

_That day, the day I left you alone in my apartment, I cried the entire flight. I cried for every mistake I’d made, every heart I was breaking by leaving, but most of all I was crying because despite my lie that I was leaving for a clean slate, I’d created yet another lie._

_Zayn, I wasn’t completely honest that day._

_I wanted to tell you this as I stood frozen in the doorframe but I couldn’t._

_The truth is Zayn, the day I left I was pregnant._

_And it was yours._

_How do I know it was yours, you ask? Well let’s just say Louis and I weren't engaging in the physical nature of our relationship at the time of conception, at least not in the way one would become impregnated from._

_So like a coward I ran for it, using a clean slate as a flimsy excuse. I ran because I was selfish and I didn't want to simply get rid of the child like most would in my position._

_I simply couldn’t._

_His name is Mason Zain Calder and He’s a part of you, Zayn. Time may change us and how you felt about what happened but it will never change that fact._

_I’ve written this letter so many times over the years, trying to give you an excuse, a reason. I've thrown away countless drafts and shed several angry tears._

_But as I stated at the beginning of this letter, I’ve come to a realization I no longer seek redemption in yours or anyone else’s eyes._

_No, this is giving you the chance to be a part of your son’s life._

_I write this in a letter, to give you the choice to scrunch it up and burn it, hide it away with whatever may remain of us in your memories._

_I write this letter in hope however, that you’ll come and see him and give him the chance I’ve been denying you both his whole life._

_A chance to be a family._

_I do not deserve forgiveness and I do not deserve redemption._

_But my son does._

_Yours sincerely_

_Eleanor Calder_

I stayed stationary in the chair, silence piercing the air as I gazed at blue lines scattered across the page in a pattern that had brought answers I didn’t know I’d been waiting twenty years to hear.

A puzzle piece that had always been missing was slowly slotting itself into my mind and I bent down to retrieve the photographs at my feet. My finger pads rubbed on the indentations of Eleanor’s writing upon the paper. The knowledge she’d written these words, brought peace in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The pictures were faded and crinkled, obviously having been folded and aged with time. One of them featured a boy, _no a man_ , who stood proudly with his arm around a woman I hadn’t seen in a long time. Yes, lines and all, it was no denying that Eleanor Calder had aged wonderfully. The man stood taller than her, with a cheeky grin and his tongue peeking through his teeth. He had dark hair and dark eyes and was darker in complexion than Eleanor. I could tell without a second glance that this man was my son. _Mason._

He shared my smile, my thick brows, my exotic complexion and tall lanky structure. However his nose, his eyes and the way he so openly embraced his mother _was all Eleanor_. I found myself unable to look away from the duo, an ache of something I couldn't quite identify swelling in my chest.

It took a good few moments before I could even look at the second photo. When I did, I found tears beginning to form in my eyes.

It was a younger Eleanor, cradling a baby in her arms, wearing a loose hospital gown. She looked exhausted, but was staring down at the bundle in her arms as though it was the centre of her universe and she merely existed because of it.

She looked so beautiful despite her tired eyes and frazzled hair that I smiled, the familiar smile I’d come to forget how to do, which belonged to the woman in the photo before me and only her.

I set the photos onto my lap, still clasping the letter in my hand as I fished out my mobile from my back pocket. I dialled the number written on the bottom of the lined paper.

 _“Hello, Eleanor Calder speaking.”_ A woman’s voice greeted, and my insides turned to jelly at its familiar tone, memories rushing back at the sound.

“Eleanor….it’s me-,” I paused, gazing down at the picture of her cradling the child. “…It’s Zayn.”


End file.
